


Iron Crown

by Tashilover



Series: Claw and dagger [7]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Fantasy, alternative universe, dragon!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-02-17 09:45:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2305295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Martin learns how big the dragon world really is.</p><p> </p><p>Another installment of the Claw and Dagger series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Twenty years from now when ya'll have moved onto other things, I'm still going to be here, writing these. Hee hee hee.

The fairy was a thin, delicate-looking woman. She was barely the size of Martin's hand, her skin was the colour of moss, and on her back she had thin, delicate wings buzzing quietly behind her, keeping her aloft. In her arms she carried a scroll that was far too big for her to carry, but it didn't look like she was struggling. "Your highness," the fairy said politely, bowing her head.

Ever since marrying Douglas, Martin has been dealing more and more with the supernatural world. Most of them were polite, wonderful creatures who often stayed for tea. Last week Douglas had over a few dwarves kings to talk about rights over old gold mines. The month before were witches who were simply asking for permission to farm wolfsbane off his lands.

Most of them were nice. A few times an unknown hooded figure would come to the entrance, asking to come inside, and Douglas would urge Martin to keep his distance. Douglas never explained who or what that hooded figure was. Very few creatures dared mess with a dragon and if this cloaked person put Douglas on edge, then Martin should take great heed.

Fairies were not a threat. Martin has had experiences with them before. They would visit the castle garden, suckling the nectar out of the flowers. As a child he found them to be endlessly fascinating, but as he grew, he soon realized they were very simple creatures. If he gave them a simple maths question, they would get headaches from thinking too hard.

"I brought a message for your dragon," the fairy said, lifting up the scroll. The parchment caught the light and it shined gold.

Martin held out a hand to take it. "Thank you," he said as the fairy dropped it into his palm. "Would you like a sugar cube?"

He learned very quickly as a child how much fairies loved sugar. He once gave a fairy a slice of velvet cake on his fourteenth birthday and the poor thing was drunk for nearly three hours.

Martin brought out a single cube from his pocket for her to take.

The fairy squealed and swooped down, snatching the cube right out of his fingers. She chomped down eagerly. "Fank you," she mumbled through a mouthful. "I be weaving now..."

She gave another little bow, then flew off, munching contently.

Martin watched her leave. He glanced down at the golden scroll.

It had a eastern dragon printed in green ink on the parchment. Martin has heard of them, seen their depictions in books and paintings, but has never encountered them in real life. He wondered what this was.

He went back into the caves, wondering if this was something Douglas was willing to share with him. "I am bound by duties to keep certain secrets," Douglas once said. "Even from you."

"Who was at the entrance, Martin?" Douglas asked as Martin walked into the treasure room. Douglas was sorting silver coins for no particular reason. He just liked playing with them.

"A fairy delivered this," Martin said, holding up the scroll.

Douglas looked up. His jaw dropped open and his claw went lax. The coins scattered out of his hands.

The noise of them clattering to the ground made him blink in surprise and he said, "Oh, oh, crap. Damn."

"What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong, Martin," Douglas said, huffing. He swept his claw across the floor, pushing the coins away into a random pile. "That golden scroll could only mean one thing: The King of the Dragons is dead."


	2. Chapter 2

"I didn't even know dragons had kings."

"Everyone is ruled by someone else," Douglas said. He broke the seal on the scroll. "A child to his parent, a man to his king, a king to his god. Even us, who are forever and eternal, must follow someone else's footsteps."

Martin cocked his head at the very casual answer. "You don't seem very broken up about it."

"I never met the king," Douglas said. "Would you feel sadness for a complete stranger, even if he were your own monarch? Of course I will show the appropriate sympathy during the funeral but for now, there are no tears."

He unrolled the scroll a few inches, stared at it briefly, then tossed it forward, extending it to its full length. Martin took a step back to watch the scroll unfurl itself across the floor, from ten feet, to fifteen feet, to finally ending at the length of twenty five feet. There was no writing on the golden scroll, just intricate drawings of dragons, sky, and ground.

"What's this?"

"It's to tell me where the funeral and coronation will be held," Douglas said, studying it. "There are no words because should the scroll fall into the wrong hands, they won't know where to go. Ah, here," he said, tapping at some random spot. Martin didn't see why this spot meant anything. "That's where we'll go."

Martin cocked his head. "Wait, coronation? _We_?"

"Yes. Immediately after the funeral. It's most likely going to be Samuel or that blasted Juliet. They're the oldest of us all. And of course I mean _we_. You are coming, aren't you?"

"Yes, of course, but I wasn't sure if I was... invited. I'm human, not dragon."

"You're my husband," Douglas said matter of factly. "It would only make sense to have my spouse with me. Don't worry, you won't be the only human there. I'm sure the others will bring their human spouses too."

Other than Carolyn, Martin has never met any other human spouses. They exchanged letters once a month, Carolyn answering any questions Martin may have. It would be interesting to see exactly how many dragons had human spouses. "Should I do anything special?"

Douglas looked down on Martin, considering. "Don't wear black. More will be focus on the coronation than on the funeral. Wear a silver crown, not gold, otherwise some young idiot dragon might try to steal it off your head. Other than that, be yourself."

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next three days they planned the trip, making the appropriate preparations for their sudden absence. As Douglas reinforced the protective magicks of the cave, Martin scoured the treasure rooms for a gift to give the new king. He eventually settled on a scepter made out of crystal and jade, embroidered with diamonds and rubies.

He wrapped the scepter in deep purple clothe, tying it with gold string. He placed the gift in a leather bag so Douglas could carry it better.

The night before they left, they both took baths in milk, soaking their flesh until their skin shined like honey. Douglas was forced to soak in longer, scratching at his scales to clean off the hardened dirt. Rather than letting the elves do it, Martin helped him by brushing the hard-to-reach places from behind his wings and at the base of his tail.

When Douglas showed interest in having sex, Martin quickly flitted away, making an excuse about not properly securing the gift right. No way in hell was he going to have sex in _milk_.

The next morning Martin dressed in his finest. The last time he wore such a outfit was on the day of his wedding. His father's lion was on his chest, along with the dragon representing Douglas. Unlike his wedding, Martin didn't wear as much jewelry. Besides a few silver rings and the crown, Martin was bare. He wondered if he should wear more. Just as he was about to walk back to the treasure room to reconsider, Douglas stopped him.

"I have a gift for you," he said, handing over a black box.

Martin took the box, a little confused. They were going to a funeral and Douglas saw this to be an opportune time to exchange gifts? The box was a little, simple thing, put together within a few minutes. Martin opened it, and inside was a single, golden coin.

He picked up the coin, studying it. Unlike the other millions of other coins piled in the treasure rooms, this coin was naked. No date, location, or country was imprinted on the metal. It was as smooth as a river-washed rock, and if Martin pressed his thumb on it, he could leave behind a perfect print.

Douglas suddenly took the coin piece out of Martin's hands, bit into it, leaving a small hole in the middle. "This is dragon's gold," Douglas explained as he looped a silver chain through the hole.

"Dragon's gold?" Martin bent his head, allowing the chain and coin to be draped over his neck.

"It's gold that has been melted over and over by dragon fire," Douglas said fondly. He stepped back, admiring the coin on Martin. "It has no magical properties, but it does act as a personal statement."

"Oh?" Martin said slyly. "And what personal statement are you trying to say here?"

"That you're _mine_."

Wait, what?

Douglas reared back, clearly surprised by the bewildered look Martin was giving him. "Yours," Martin repeated.

"Well... yes, you are _my_ husband."

"You told me dragons don't exchange symbols of marriage like wedding rings. So what is this?"

Douglas' jaw tightened. "There are going to be a lot of dragons at the funeral. Hundreds."

"Yes...?"

"Out of all of them... only four have human spouses. Not including myself."

"I..." Now Martin knew human/dragon marriages were rare, but to the point where only five existed at a time was mind-boggling. When Douglas said the other dragons were going to bring their spouses, Martin clearly thought more than _five_. "So... then what's the point of the gold? It's not as if another dragon is going to mistake me for their spouse."

"You don't have to worry about the ones who have spouses. They've been around enough humans to recognize and differentiate. It's for the other dragons. A lot of them are not... fond of the idea of mating with humans, let alone interacting with them. With my gold piece around your neck, it will tell them to keep their distance. That you're mine and are not to be harassed. Otherwise they act like sniveling, petty creatures."

Martin fingered the gold piece. "Should I stay home? It sounds like my mere presence is going to cause a lot of trouble."

"If I go without my spouse, my new King will see it as a great insult. Unless you're dying, nobody is allowed to miss out on the coronation."

"Gee, I feel safer already. I wish you told me this sooner."

"I'm sorry, I keep forgetting you have never met another dragon. But I promise you, Martin, you will be safe. No dragon will dare harm you, not unless they want to face my wrath. Human or not, you are my spouse and that is a title that needs to be respected, even amongst arrogant bastards like myself."

Martin wasn't a hundred percent certain. Up until this point he was secretly excited to go. He has never seen another dragon up close and to know there were going to be _hundreds_ sent shivers down his spine. Despite the veiled danger, he wanted to see it. Excitement mixed in with fear, churning his stomach. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"My siblings will be there."

"Okay..."

"And my daughters and sons."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dragon's gold concept comes from the old HP fanfic, "The Marriage Stone." Read with caution... CAUSE IT HASN'T BEEN UPDATED SINCE 2007!!!


	3. Chapter 3

It had been such a long since they last went flying, Martin reveled in every second of it. When they took off, he had to fight against his usual yell of glee. They were going to a funeral, not a party. Voicing his excitement of flying didn't feel appropriate for the situation.

In some ways, technically it was a party. The funeral was only going to last for a day, followed quickly by the coronation, then the rest of the week was filled with celebration for their new King. Douglas promised Martin it was going to be filled with rowdiness, drunkiness, and everyone trying to set each other on fire. So really, it was no different than the parties Martin's father used to host.

Setting each other on fire was a bit different though.

Martin was jerked out of his thoughts when Douglas suddenly descended, rapidly getting to the ground. Martin craned his neck, thinking they were about to be attacked but saw nothing in the sky that could be a threat to a dragon. His ears popped from the altitude change.

"What's wrong?" Martin asked as soon as they landed. He started pulling at his sword. The sword was merely there to act as decoration but it could cause damage if used in the proper way.

"Martin," Douglas said. His tone gave no indication of panic or fear. "You've been grinding your erection into my back this whole time."

No matter how many times Martin has flown, the excitement of being in the air has not worn off. He had hoped his arousal would go away on its own. He didn't realize he'd been rubbing himself against Douglas this whole time. "I... oh... I-I'm sorry. How embarrassing-"

"No need to apologize. Now, get off of me so I can get on top of you."

Blush exploded across Martin's cheeks. "Douglas! We're going to a funeral! I don't think this is the time or place-"

"It's best we take care of this now. Do you really want the other dragons to see you in this state? We've got another hour of flying to go through and I know I am going to be thoroughly _distracted_ knowing you're sitting on top of me... unsatisfied."

Martin bit his lip. "Give me a second to get undress. I don't want grass stains on my clothes."

Douglas gave a satisfying purr as Martin slid down and stepped away from him. Martin quickly took off his silver crown, placing it delicately to the side. When he tried to take off the dragon gold piece, Douglas said, "No, don't. Leave it on."

His tail had been swishing back and forth, a sign of his excitement. The thought of this mere coin on Martin's naked body practically had him trembling. Martin didn't understand the significance or why the thought was so arousing for Douglas, but he wasn't going to argue.

Just as he managed to unbutton his shirt, smirking in anticipation, someone interrupted them.

A tall, thin, blonde man walked into the clearing. He had his arm up as if he were readying to wave and greet them. He stopped and blinked in surprise. "Oh," he said, lowering his arm. "Excuse me, I didn't know you were with your dragon. Carry on."

He turned, shrugged, and left.

Martin froze in his spot, his hands not moving, still staring at the spot where the man walked away from.

"Martin?" Douglas said. "Are you going to carry on?"

" _Carry on?_ " Martin squealed, closing his shirt and buttoning it. " _I am not having sex while somebody is only a mere few feet away from us!"_

"It's nothing he hasn't seen before. He is one of the dragon spouses I was telling you earlier."

Martin gaped. Now that he thought about it, the man was wearing a royal colour, carried a jeweled sword and had a small, circular crown on his head. Martin had been so embarrassed and shocked, he didn't notice it before. "That... that does not matter! I don't care if he's been... oh, the moment's gone, anyway."

Douglas' wings and tail dropped in disappointment. "You humans are too sensitive to your nakedness." With a sigh he turned his head towards the area the man left from. "Come out, you two!"

Fucking hell. Martin quickly swept his crown and stood up straight, hoping he looked everything like the prince he was. His cheeks burned horribly. He wanted to crawl into a hole, not meet face to face with another royal and their dragon.

The tall man walked out, grinning slyly as if he _had_ been privy to their activities the entire time. Following behind him, an eastern dragon slithered out.

Martin sucked in a lungful of air, struck by this dragon's beauty. She was more like a snake, long and thin and lean with muscle. Though she had two front arms with three horned claws, she didn't need them to stand. She hovered above the grass without any use of wings. She was bright red like fresh blood, and she had two long thin horns on top of her head.

"Hello, Hans," Douglas greeted the man. His eyes traveled to the dragon. "Suki."

"Douglas," the dragon, Suki, murmured back. "You got fatter, I see."

Douglas barred his teeth. "Evidence of marriage life, as you know. You look well. You almost resemble something I crapped out two days ago."

Martin was horrified. He remembered Carolyn saying dragons hated each other but to do _this_ while their spouses were there? He looked to Hans and Hans merely shrugged. _Dragons_ , his posture said. _What can you do?_

Suki's eyes went to Martin. "New, isn't he?"

As beautiful as she was, she was also immensely intimidating. Her bright green eyes narrowed in on him, scrutinizing his every being. Martin wanted to hide.

"This is Prince Martin," Douglas introduced. "Of Fitton. We were married earlier this year."

The way she looked him over, Martin surely thought something nasty was going to come out of her mouth. Instead, she said,

"He's pretty. Keep him away from the others, otherwise they'll tease him endlessly."

Hans looked up at his dragon. "You never call me pretty."

"You're not," she said. "You're too dashing to be pretty. That, and your ridiculous mustache."

She meant his handlebar mustache which stretched two inches off the side of his face. Hans nodded in approval, stroking his mustache thoughtfully.

Martin stepped forward, determine to add something to this strange, unreal conversation. "I assume you two are flying to the coronation?"

"We are," Hans said. "We landed to have ourselves a little break. Suki told me another dragon was nearby but I didn't know you two were about to fuck. Please don't tell me it was my interruption that stopped the both of you."

"It was," Douglas said. "Martin here is not used to dragon customs."

"Oh, I see. You better get used to it quick, my friend. Otherwise you're going to be in a big surprise."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Dub-con situation involving dragons

Martin spent the rest of the flight fuming in indignation. He tried calming down quite a of number of times, but humiliation kept creeping back up on him, turning his cheeks splotchy red.

There were moments in his youth when Martin's father met with foreign leaders. The clashing of cultures and customs made Martin feel ignorant and confused. When he first met with those from the East and they had bowed to Martin in greeting, Martin responded with laughing at the odd sight. His father had promptly slapped him across the head.

Since then Martin has grown and developed a skin for culture shock. This was the first time in a long time he felt small in the face of something he didn't understand.

Prince Hans was kind enough to explain dragons really had no qualms about sex. They didn't care about gender, they didn't care about privacy. Hans said Martin should prepare himself. He was going to see a great deal of fucking over the next week.

Though this was all dragon customs and Martin had no need to feel offended, he felt offended. It didn't help Douglas kept mentioning how 'silly' humans were when it came to sex.

Martin was so upset, the flight didn't spark not a single twinge of arousal in him.

Finally after a half hour of complete silence between the two, Douglas cried out, "We're here!" And started descending.

At the sight, all of Martin's anger drained away immediately. He gasped.

The mountain Douglas was taking him to looked like a gigantic beehive. It rose from the earth nearly three hundred feet into the air. Unlike a beehive, it didn't have a hexagon structure. There were a million little pockets dotting the entire mountain with no discernible pattern Martin could see. That was not even the best part.

Hundreds of dragons circled around it. All different shapes, all different sizes and colours. Douglas was circling too, getting closer and closer with every full cycle. Soon enough they were in the thick of it, dragons flying so close Martin could reach out and touch their scaly hides.

The nearest to him was a long, thin, green dragon. He was longer than Suki, and not as beautiful. He reminded Martin of a piece of pasta noodle and he wiggled like one too. Though like Suki, he flew without the necessity of wings.

The dragon suddenly twisted and dove into one of the smallest of holes, disappearing from view. Douglas kept flying, ignoring every hole he came across, getting closer and closer to the hive with every beat of his wings.

"Are the holes made specifically for each dragon?" Martin asked out loud.

His question garnered a few odd looks thrown his way by other passing dragons. "No," said Douglas, giving him the same befuddled glance back. "Why do you ask?"

That was a question Martin knew he was never going to have answered.

Far down below, near the ground level of the hive, the largest of dragons landed. Compared to them, Douglas looked like a house fly. Martin wondered what they ate to sustain such a massive body. Perhaps these dragons hunted the fabled megalodons who lived in the deepest parts of the oceans.

"Hold on!" Douglas cried out. He twisted, grabbed onto the edge of a hole and halted so suddenly, had Martin not been prepared, he would have fallen off. Douglas hanged for a few seconds, then climbed in.

It was pitch black inside the hole. It was also significantly cooler and impossibly quiet. For a mountain that was sustaining hundreds of gigantic beasts with wings and claws, once inside, the whole world around them became pleasantly silent.

"Incredible," Martin breathed, sliding down Douglas' side. He reached out and touched the smooth wall of the cave. "Who built this place?"

Douglas pursed his lips together and exhaled sharply, letting out a small stream of fire. The small burst of flame illuminated the darkness. Even as Douglas stopped breathing fire, the light stayed in their presence. "According to legend," Douglas said. "This mountain was once home to the mother of all dragons, Mim. She used to circle the world, holding her tail in her mouth, keeping balance throughout the lands. But as she grew old, she wanted her legacy to continue."

He moved forward slowly, letting the light to show them the way. The tunnel was very long, very dark. As they moved, it slowly curved. Martin felt a sense of unease as the entrance disappeared from view behind them.

"She built this for her nest," Douglas continued. "She laid her eggs, then died of old age. After a thousand years of gestation, the eggs hatched, and soon the world was filled with dragons, scattering out and seeking their own lands."

"That's incredible. Is it true?"

Douglas shrugged. "No idea. There are certain portions of dragon lore that has possibility of truth, but too many of us are too unnecessarily lazy to care. If you want to know more, you should probably talk to Azazel, or Kim. They are the scholars among us. Oh, but stay away from Luciella. She's a scholar too, one of the oldest among us, but she doesn't like humans."

"Any particular reason why?"

"Eh... she finds your kind to be... weak." Douglas snorted. "That old bat has no idea what she's missing out on."

Five minutes later as their little ball of flame slowly flickered out, Douglas said, "Stay close. It'll be a bit chaotic."

The end of the tunnel was in sight. Up ahead, Martin could hear the chattering and grumbling of dozens of deep voices, mingling together in a white hum. The light went completely out, but they were close enough to not need it.

Martin fought the urge to run forward, to end his curiosity. He didn't want to come out alone. It might look rude. He readjusted his crown and tried to look as princely as he could.

He stepped out with Douglas and gasped at the sight.

The standing area they were in was the largest Martin had ever seen. The ceiling was so tall, so massive, he had to look away, he was getting overwhelmed by the sheer size. He kept trying to look back up because there were dragons crawling on the ceiling, hanging off of it like bats.

Dragons of every size and colour were mingling, speaking in languages Martin never heard of before. Nobody looked like they were hindered by the culture block. He saw dragons join in on conversations where four different languages were being used at once.

There were dragons as small as butterflies, buzzing across the room swiftly. One landed on Martin's shoulder, and he looked to it, amused. "Hello," he greeted.

The tiny dragon glanced up at him. His wings were like damselflies.

The dragon said nothing and it took off, disappearing out of sight.

A few dragons greeted Douglas with a curt nod of their head. Most ignored him as they walked through the crowd. The ones who bothered to look at Martin regarded him as an adult regarded a child at the dinner table: secretly hoping the brat kept to himself and not make a scene.

"So...?" Douglas asked. "What do you think so far?"

"It's incredible!" Martin said breathlessly. "Oh my gosh, there's so many of you. I would have never considered-!"

"Take in the scene as much as you can. This is literally a once in a lifetime opprotunity. I am not even sure _I'll_ be around when the next king is crowned- oh damn it to hell."

"What? What's wrong?"

Douglas nodded his head forward. "Bonnie."

Up ahead, laying right on the floor, was a female dragon. She looked absolutely miserable, huffing and shaking almost uncontrollaby. The other dragons gave her a wide berth, and yet still ignored her suffering as if she wasn't there.

With a grumble Douglas walked up to her. Martin trailed behind, concerned but confused at Douglas' reactions.

"Bonnie," Douglas said, catching her attention. Bonnie weakly lifted her head to look at him. "What are you doing? Where's Rackoun?"

"Bastard's torn his wing," she growled. "He won't be here for another few hours."

"Hmmm... do you need to be mounted?"

Martin startled. What the hell was he asking-?

"Y-y-y-yes..." Bonnie said, drawing out her words. Her claws scrapped against the floor. "God, end it already."

"Alright. Get on your back."

As Bonnie shifted, Douglas maneuvered around her, positioning himself to climb on.

"Douglas!" Martin squealed. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He was already half-way on top of her when he suddenly stopped. He glanced back at Martin, blinking as if he'd forgotten he was there.

"Douglas!" Bonnie hissed. "Where are you going?"

"Give me a second, my dear." He got off of her. He turned to Martin. "Martin, I know what this may look like-"

Martin gasped. " _Looks like_?"

"I am not impregnating her. She's in _heat_. Look at her. She's suffering. All I will be doing is easing the pressure until that idiot she calls a mate comes."

"Fuck you!" Bonnie cried out.

Douglas ignored her. "This won't affect our contractural marriage, but if you truly don't want me to do this, I won't."

"I..." Martin looked around, almost bewildered. There were hundreds of dragons here. Any one of them could do it. "Why can't someone else do it?"

"Because I am the only one offering. These pricks don't care."

The words of Prince Hans drifted back to Martin, reminding him that this was a different world, with different customs and ideas. Either he could accept some things were going to be beyond him or he could fight it to the bitter end. Martin's heart was pounding, making him feel sick. Already Douglas was taking his silence as a _no_ , and he slowly moved away from Bonnie, much to her dismay.

"She won't get pregnant?" Martin asked.

Douglas halted in his movements, surprised. "No. I am not her mate."

"Um... then... I guess it'll be alright."

"Are you sure?"

For fuck's sake, Bonnie was crying silently on the floor. Martin had no idea what it was like to be in heat, for the body wanting something so bad it could cause great stress, but he didn't want to see her like that anymore. "Don't worry about me. Help her."

Douglas suddenly nuzzled Martin's neck, giving it a quick lick of affection. "H-Hey!"

He quickly pulled away, swiftly getting back on Bonnie who groaned in response. He shifted on top of, angling himself to enter her, when suddenly she struck out, slashing him across the face with her claws.

Three long marks bled across Douglas' snout. He snarled, his lip pulling back to reveal teeth. His mouth descended upon her, biting her on the neck, forcing himself into her at the same time.

Horrified, Martin stepped forward to stop this.

A hand grasped him by the shoulder. Martin turned to see Prince Hans shaking his head. "Don't," he said. "This is what dragons do."

"But he's-"

" _This is what dragons do_. Don't apply human logic to this. They'll be a little worse for wear after this but neither of them will be... hurt."

Suki, the beautiful eastern red dragon, was watching the scene with a bored expression on her face. After a few seconds she turned her attention elsewhere, muttering something about cheese and wine.

Martin fought hard to keep his emotions under control. "So he's not...?"

" _No_ ," said Hans. "If he was, this would be a different scene all together."

Now that gave Martin some relief - little though it was - to know there _was_ a difference amongst dragons, even if Martin didn't see one.

Bonnie kept kicking at Douglas, biting him, digging her claws deep into his shoulders. Douglas didn't so much struck at her, but held her down in every way he could. Finally, after three minutes of this display, Douglas threw himself off of Bonnie. He was covered in slash marks and blood, whole chunks of scale ripped away. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving from exertion.

Bonnie... looked better. The colour of her scales was darker, her eyes more focused. She wasn't crying anymore. "Ahhh... thank you, Douglas," she groaned, stretching out like a well-fed cat.

"You're welcome," Douglas huffed. "Tell your mate he owes me one."

"Go fuck a turtle, he owes you shit."

He shook his mournfully. He turned to Martin, limping as he did so. "Come. Let's introduce you to the other humans."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mim the mother dragon is taken from the graphic novel series, "Bone" by Jeff Smith. It's a great and ya'll should totally read it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mild mention of pus

"Are you going to be alright?"

Douglas rested against a wall, out of the way of moving traffic. He wasn't bleeding as much, but he hasn't moved from that spot since he laid down twenty minutes ago.

"I'll be fine," he muttered. "If it doesn't kill me outright within the first five minutes, recovery is guaranteed. It might take a few days, though."

"God, Douglas," Martin moaned. "Is... is this how you dragons are like with each other? Always? You're not like that with me."

Douglas grunted. "If I treated you like that, you'll die."

"No kind words for each other? No gentle touching?"

The dragon made a face. "As if I would give these morons the time of day."

"See, there, right there. When you talk to me, you talk to me gently, but when you talk to them or about them-"

"That's because you're different, Martin!"

" _Why_ am I different?"

Dear lord, Martin's broken him. Still bleeding profusely from the wounds on his face, Douglas stared wildly at Martin, unable to speak through his stunned expression. The few times he tried to form words, he stuttered. "B-B-Because!" He finally said. " Humans are humans and dragons are dragons!"

For fuck's sake, Martin was never going to get a straight answer. Maybe once Prince Hans came back with the other humans, Martin could ask them.

Douglas studied him. "Why does this bother you so much?"

"I don't know," Martin said. "I guess I am just surprised by the amount of _hate_ thrown about-"

"Whoa, hold on there. Hate?" Douglas shook his massive head, ignoring the droplets of blood splattering to the floor. "I'll admit I would rather have all of my teeth pulled out with a rusty dagger than spend a ten minute conversation with them, but I don't hate them. I just don't _like_ them."

Before Martin could even think about that answer further, Prince Hans was waving them down from across the floor, gesturing to them to walk over.

"C'mon then," Douglas grunted, shakily getting to his feet. "I want to introduce you to my daughter."

 

 

 

 

 

 

Verity looked exactly like Douglas. She was the same colour, shape and size of her father, except she had three horns on her head, instead of two. Martin was afraid as soon as the two dragons reunited, there was going to be more insults spewed between them.

"Father," Verity greeted, gently butting her head into Douglas'. She didn't seem to care she got blood smeared across her scales. "Why are you bleeding?"

"Bonnie," Douglas said. "She was in heat and her damn mate wasn't here."

"So you decided to do the noble thing and mount her?" Verity huffed. "You did this when your spouse is here? I'm sure he loves you bleeding over him."

Standing next to Verity was whom Martin assumed was her spouse. The woman was tall and thin, wearing a black and red jeweled dress. Her jet black hair was braided up into a bun, while small silver flowers were pinned around her head, shaping into a circlet. She was older than Martin, and very beautiful.

"Martin," Douglas finally said in introduction. "This is Princess Ku Fei." Ku Fei bowed so elegantly, so practiced, Martin gulped, struck stupid by her beauty. He felt his cheeks heating up and tried to bow back, nearly toppling over his own crown in the process.

She giggled at him and it sounded like bells. "Tell me, Martin," she said. There was only a slight hint of an accent in her voice. "How long have you two been married?"

"A little over a year," Martin said, happy to find his voice. "And you two?"

Ku Fei ran the back of her hand over Verity's scales in a loving manner. "Sixteen years next month."

Did he hear that wrong? "I-I'm sorry? Did you say sixteen _years?_ "

"I did."

"W-wow... that's... wow."

Martin had only just turned twenty a few months ago. He was already anticipating his twenty-fourth birthday with apprehension, unsure if he wanted to continue the relationship with Douglas or not. There was a chance Martin's father would like Martin to be married off to someone else afterwards. At twenty-four, he would still be a virle, young man worthy of marriage regardless of his sullied flesh.

"I think the bleeding stopped," Douglas murmured. "About time too."

He scratched at his head, dispelling the flakes of dried blood off of him. Martin curled away from the bits fluttering to the floor.

Over the next hour as other dragons arrived, so did the last two of the human spouses. Unlike Ku Fei and Hans, neither of them looked like they wanted to be here and introduced themselves so carelessly, Martin forgotten their names as soon as they said it. Not even their dragons were that interesting to converse with, and within ten minutes after introductions, they drifted off, disappearing into the crowd.

"They didn't look happy with each other," Martin commented as soon as they were gone.

"Not every marriage is a success," said Douglas. "Even I had a few human spouses who hated every second spent with me."

The next few hours became a blur. More and more dragons arrived, crowding the room. At some point, elves came out of nowhere, carrying tubs of wines and distributing gigantic plates of cheeses and cooked meats.

For the first time in his life, Martin had a meal on the floor. There were no tables, though Martin supposed there was barely room for the dragons themselves. The elves managed to scrounge up plates and goblets for the humans, but everyone else ate straight off the platter.

The whole room was filled with chatter, laughter, and drunken yelling. A few times a fight broke out in some random area, and Martin would watch from a distance as dragons were tossed through the air, crashing to the floor, followed by a giant fireball.

"When does the actual funeral start?"

"Tomorrow," Douglas said. "In the morning. After we've rested from our long flights."

It was a miracle Martin lasted as long as he did, but after his second cup of wine, he needed to relieve himself. He summoned an elf and asked if there was a place he could do that. He was dreading the idea he might have to do here, in the open, where everyone could see.

(So far he hasn't seen any of the other dragons relieving themselves in full view, but who knows)

"Yes, your majesty," the elf said, bowing so deeply his forehead touched the floor. "Follow me."

"Douglas, I am-"

He meant to tell Douglas where he was going, but the dragon was so sloshed, had Martin started growing another head, he wouldn't have noticed. All of the dragons in their little group was nearly drunk off their arses. The only person who looked sober was Fei Ku, who only took polite sips from her golden goblet. She was listening intently to what Verity was saying, though to Martin's ears, it sounded like drunken gibberish.

He followed the tiny elf through the crowded room, dodging and jumping over outstretched tails, claws and wings. As small as he was, the elf had no problem navigating through the giant lizards.

"Over here, your majesty," the elf said, pointing to a small cave leading away from the main room. "You can relieve yourself here."

"Oh, okay..."

Martin didn't know what made this particular tunnel different from the dozens of others. It was shorter than the others, perhaps dimly lit, but it still led to the outside. For a moment Martin stood at the edge of the tunnel, staring out into the darkness. The moon was not out, leaving him to only guess how far up he was.

It felt very bad to be urinating over the edge of an ancient, sacred temple. He hoped this wasn't going to come back and bite him in the ass.

He quickly finished and redressed himself. Once he emerged back from the tunnel, the elf was there, holding a bowl of water and a towel for him to use. "Ah, thank you."

The elf blushed. His giant eyes darted away as Martin leaned down to wash his hands.

"What's wrong?" Martin asked.

"Nothing, your majesty," the elf said. "It's just... you're the very first creature to have ever... thanked me for my services."

"Oh," Martin dried his hands. It wasn't that big of a deal, all he said was _thank you_. "Well, you're doing a great job-!"

"His majesty is too kind!" The elf cried out in embarrassment. "Oh my goodness! Excuse me!"

The elf suddenly took off running into the crowd, carrying the bowl of water right over his head, spilling the contents in his haste. Martin heard him squealing, even long after he disappeared from Martin's eyesight.

That was strange. The elves at Douglas' caves didn't act like that. Then again, they thanked the elves when they did a good job, not ignore them like Martin suspected they were in this place.

Now to navigate his way through. He vaguely knew the direction back to his dragons. Taking a step forward, he kept his eyes to the ground so he wouldn't step on someone's tail by accident.

Something slammed into his back, making him stumble over his own feet. He threw his hands out to stop his landing, and he crashed to the floor in an undignified slump. His silver crown clattered off his head.

"Ow... ow, what the fuck...?"

He looked up to see what hit him. All the surrounding dragons were paying attention to their own conversations, oblivious to him. Maybe he was hit by someone's wing.

With a huff, Martin pushed himself up to his feet. He hissed at the sight of his hands, scratched and red. They weren't bleeding, but they were threatening to. He curled his hands to his chest, and searched around for his crown.

He was struck again, this time sending him to his knees. There was no mistaking the giggle that followed, the snickering from all around him.

He lifted his head, gritting through the pain to see three dragons surrounding him. They were very young, these dragons. One of them had yet to grown in her own horns and looked more like a overgrown gecko than a dragon.

The biggest one, a dark grey male dragon, had Martin's crown in his claw, twirling it around. With a grunt, Martin pushed himself to his feet, straightened his clothes and held out his hand. "Give me back my crown."

The dragon stopped the twirling. He caught the silver crown between two clawed fingers, and bent it in half effortlessly. The jewels incrusted into the metal scattered all over the floor.

He tossed the broken, twisted crown in Martin's direction. It clattered at his feet.

"I don't recognize the commands from pink, talking monkeys," he said.

"I am a prince, and I will be treated as such!" Martin said, putting as much bravado behind his voice as he could. He was getting scared, his confidence slipping by the second. "Move aside!"

The female suddenly swooped down her head, jaw agape, snapping her jagged teeth just a foot in front of him. Martin jumped back in alarm, stumbled, and fell upon his bum.

The dragons laughed and cajoled cruelly.

"Hey, what's that?" The third dragon finally spoke. He narrowed his eyes down at Martin, at his chest. "Do you have _gold_ on you, monkey?"

The gold coin Douglas had given Martin was stuck between the folds of his tunic, obscuring it from sight.

Greed filled the dragon's voice. "Give it to me."

Before Martin even had a chance to say _NO_ , the dragon reached out to grab it.

There was a noise, like a clap of thunder, and suddenly the dragon was falling back, howling in pain. Large, infectious-looking bubbles dotted the dragon's paw. Some of them popped, spilling pus all over the discoloured scales.

"What was that?" The female dragon demanded wildly. "What did you do to him?"

Martin pulled out the gold piece into full view.

The female and the grey dragon hissed, baring their teeth as they backed away. "Dragon's gold!" The grey one screeched. "No fucking wonder!"

With one last hiss in Martin's direction, he slithered away into the crowd. The female followed suit, and the last dragon curled into a small ball, flinching away from Martin, still holding his paw tenderly.

Martin stared down at the small gold piece in wonder. What the hell was this exactly?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Naughty dragon/human stuff.

Walking on his way back, Martin made sure he had the gold piece in full view. There were one or two dragons who gave him a thoughtful look, their tails swishing in a deliberate manner. None approached him though. Most ignored him.

As irked as Martin felt at Douglas for not informing him fully what the gold piece really was about, he sighed in relief when he spotted Douglas and the others. It was good to be back in familiar company and friends, even if he had only known about them for a few hours. He jogged up to them, then immediately stopped in his tracks.

Ku Fei was sitting on top of an overturned wine tub, legs spread, her dress shoved up above her hips. There was a fine sheen of sweat over her skin, a great red flush on her cheeks. She was gasping and moaning loudly, gripping the edges of the tub for support.

Verity had her head in between Ku Fei's legs, lapping at her.

All of Martin's worries, his anger, his annoyance, suddenly flew out the window. He stared at the two of them, his mouth open, dumbstruck. A fierce blush rose to his cheeks, and as Verity continued to pleasure Ku Fei with her tongue, Martin got hard.

 _In full view,_ Martin thought. Literally nobody else in the room even looked in their direction. The dragons were either too busy talking to each other, eating, drinking, or didn't care. Even now, as Ku Fei leaned back against the tub, bringing her hands up to fondle at her own breasts, nobody gave them a second glance.

A hand suddenly clamped down on Martin's shoulder, making him jump and squeal.

Hans pulled his arm away, surprised by Martin's reaction. "Whoa, it's just me. Are you okay?"

"I-I-I-I-I-I-I-"

He couldn't even get the words out, he was blushing so hard. Hans peered down at Martin's erection with confusion, and just as Martin tried to explain, Hans spotted Ku Fei and Verity. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," he said, understanding. "Do I even have to say it?"

Martin gulped. "Dragon thing?"

"Dragon thing."

"But... Ku Fei isn't a-"

"When you've been married to a dragon as long as she has, you learn to stop caring. Dragons don't have a concept of privacy, nakedness, or having sex for pleasure. Our activities are about as interesting to them as a dead rat."

How embarrassing. Martin felt like a fool for being struck so harshly by the culture shock. He was supposed to be a wordly, educated prince. To add on that pile of idiocy, he was sporting a full erection in front of another monarch. Good god, somebody set him on fire immediately.

"You know, if you want to get rid of that..." Hans said, indicating to Martin's crotch. Martin squealed unhappily, cupped himself with both of his hands and shyed away. "Ask your dragon to take of it for you."

"I... I can't... I'm too..."

"Emabarrassed? You'll be fine. As soon as you get it over with it, you'd be surprised how easy it is."

Easier said than done.

"Tell me," Martin said, changing the subject. "Do you know what's the significance behind this?"

He held up the dragon's gold for Hans to see.

Hans stared at it, scrutinizing it, then shook his head. "It's a gold coin. Am I suppose to know the significance?"

"I suppose not," Martin said, tucking it back. "I'll have to ask Douglas about it."

The dragon in question was too busy snoring. Martin supposed he could feel irritated towards him later. Douglas was still technically recovering from his wounds.

Hans was kind enough to stay with Martin to chat briefly about their experiences. Every time Ku Fei gasped, Martin did his best to ignore it. His ears were bright red the entire time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As the party finally winded down and the conversations slowly drifted off (as well as Martin's hard on) the dragons sat down, and one by one, fell asleep on the spot.

It didn't look like Martin was going to sleep on a bed tonight.

Taking a cue from what Hans and Ku Fei were doing, Martin summoned an elf and asked for a bowl of water to wash up.

He made sure he graciously thanked the elf over and over, taking delighted glee in watching this little creature flush scarlet from the praise. When asked for a blanket and possibly, a pillow, that was something not even the elf could provide. Concessions were made for the humans, but clearly many necessities were forgotten about.

The other humans found ways to deal.

Verity had drawn Ku Fei close, tucking her in the crook of her arm like a child would to a teddy bear. Clearly they had slept like this before because Ku Fei only made a few adjustments of her legs before closing her eyes to sleep. The princess sighed in contentment, no doubt brought on by the orgasm Verity had coaxed out of her earlier.

For Hans and Suki, she wrapped herself around him like a snake would to its prey. Martin found the sleeping arrangement to be uncomfortable-looking. Hans didn't seem to mind. He settled more comfortably against his dragon, adjusting his legs and arms inside of his cocoon.

Douglas was snoring away, oblivious to Martin's situation. Martin didn't want to look like he was the only human who didn't know how to sleep with his dragon, but he literally _did not know_. Both Hans and Ku Fei looked _smothered_ in their dragon's grasp. Was that how Martin was suppose to sleep too?

After a quick walk around Douglas, Martin chose a spot near Douglas' front leg, up against his ribs. It looked fleshy enough. Martin sat down and scooted close, resting his head awkwardly against Douglas' elbow.

The moment he did this, Douglas suddenly shifted, curling around Martin, bringing him closer. His wings draped over them both, enclosing them quietly.

"I thought you were alseep," Martin whispered.

"Mmmm... I was," Douglas murmured sleepily. His eyes were still closed. "Felt you against me. Are you comfortable enough?"

Sort of. Martin was still going to sleep at an incline, and he was afraid if he shifted too much, he was going to catch himself on one of the many horns on Douglas' back. "Would it be alright if I slept on your wing?"

"Do what you must," Douglas yawned, opening his jaw wide, showing off his teeth. "Nothing you do will... hurt me..."

Martin reached up and grasped one of the leathery wings, bringing it down to lay on top of it. There, that felt much better. A little odd, but better. With a soft sigh, he slowly drifted off to sleep, surrounded by Douglas' warmth, the sound of the dragon's steady heartbeat as his lullaby.


	7. Chapter 7

It was the tiny hands that woke him. Martin wanted to ignore them, to go back into that sweet abyss of soft warmth. Two small palms pressed insistently against his shoulder, shaking him lightly, gently coaxing him from his sleep. "Mmmmm...? Ah?"

"Your highness," the small elf said quietly, stepping back.

Martin gently pushed aside Douglas' wing to sit up. He rubbed a heel at his eye, blinking in irritation. All around him were the collective snores of the dragons. Douglas had not stirred, not even with the elf standing on top of him. "Yes? What is it...?"

"It's time for you to get up, your highness," the elf said. "Before the others do. It's best to take advantage of the quietness."

"Oh? Um... yes... I... what time is it?"

"Nearly six. The sun is rising as we speak. I... have also brought you this."

From a pouch hanging off the elf's shoulder, he pulled out a small, iron circlet with a single garnet jewel incrusted in the front.

"What's this?" Martin asked as the elf placed in his hands. The weight of the circlet surprised him, forcing him to hold it with better strength.

"To replace the one you lost," said the elf quietly. He diverted his eyes and blushed. "I made it myself."

"Oh... thank you. I was afraid I would look... underdressed, but you saved the day."

The blush grew deeper. Martin swore if he complimented the elf any further, the poor creature would spontaneous combust. "I wish to wash my face," said Martin. "Is there a place I can do so...?"

"Yes!" the elf squeaked. "There are baths designated over here. Please use them before the other dragons awaken or else there's a chance of you drowning."

"Uh..."

"They don't look before climbing in."

"Oh." Martin rubbed at his eyes again, wiping away the sleeping dust. The elf expertly slid off of Douglas without making so much of an impression. Any discomfort Martin had about using Douglas as a bed evaporated during the night. The dragon was so warm, his wing so unbelievably soft, Martin was never going to sleep on a bed of furs again. He slid off Douglas' back, careful not to nick his hands against the scales.

Douglas stirred. "Mmm... Martin?"

"Shhh... go back to sleep. I'm going to take a bath."

"A bath?" Douglas blinked, unfurling himself from his tight curl. "That sounds lovely. I think I'll join you. I need to clean off this blood anyhow."

"How do you feel?"

"Sluggish. But better."

The elf was like a little spring, bouncing off of sleeping dragons like he was nothing more than a flea to them. Martin did his best to step around tails and outstretched wings as he followed the elf.

Douglas didn't care and stepped on everything in his path. The dragons groaned and cursed, jerking their outstretched limbs away, muttering obscenities at him before going back to sleep. "Fucking ass..."

The elf lead them through another long, curved tunnel. The structure of this hive was such an anomaly, so unlike anything Martin has ever seen or experienced before. As large and expansive as Douglas' caves were, the structure _made sense._ The way this tunnel curved, it should have lead them back to the beginning. Was it really magic or an optical illusion?

Finally the tunnel ended, opening up to another large, wide space. Dozens of small hot spring baths were scattered as far as the eye could see. Already some of the baths were occupied by other dragons, soaking contently in the heat. In one far corner, Verity and Ku Fei were already there, climbing into a spring. Ku Fei, nude and loving it, waved when she saw them.

Martin meekly waved back, refusing to look in her direction any longer.

It looked like Douglas was already heading in their direction, most likely wanting conversation. "Douglas..." Martin said. "Let's go over here."

He pointed to the far opposite of the cave where only one of the baths were occupied. A lone, ashy-grey dragon soaked quietly. His eyes were closed and he was snoring lightly.

"Why?" Douglas asked.

_Because I am embarrassed._

"Because... uh... I want to have sex."

That's not what he meant to say.

"Oh?" Said Douglas, suddenly very interested. He quickly turned to the direction Martin was pointing to. "Well now, how can I deny such a humble request?"

The heat rising from the baths was already making Martin's skin sweat. Suddenly the thought of talking to a naked princess appeared a much better prospect than having sex in full view of everyone here.

 _Nobody cares_ , his brain reminded him. _Let it go and enjoy yourself._

It still didn't stop the blush from rising in his cheeks. By the time they got to the isolated corner of the cave, Martin was feeling more nervous now than on the night he lost his virginity.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," Douglas purred. "You've been denying me all week. How dare you..."

As embarrassed as he felt, Martin always got a sense of pride whenever Douglas was practically begging to be touched. To know these giagantic, terrible creatures of myth could be brought down by such affection.

Though Ku Fei and Verity were too far away to see (he assumed,) Martin kept his back to them while he stripped. He thought about asking the elf if it was possible to get fresh clothing. It wasn't a good idea to start the funeral and coronation wearing the same clothes he wore since yesterday morning.

He startled when he felt a tongue lick in between his legs suddenly. "Yipe!"

"You're going too slow," Douglas murmured, smacking his lips. "Hurry up."

"You're too impatient. Haven't you ever heard, anticipation is half the fun?"

"It's not a good idea to incite a dragon."

Martin giggled, quickly shedding his clothes slightly faster. As he slipped off his outer tunic, the gold piece swayed into view.

He considered not asking about the gold piece. This felt like a conversation better saved for later. Martin may not be curious like a cat, but he understood when a question needed to be answered. "Douglas..." Martin said, turning around. He held the gold piece up. "What is this thing?"

Douglas was taken back. "I told you."

"You didn't tell me everything. I know if another dragon touches it, it burns them. So what is it? You said it doesn't have any magical properties."

"Well... technically it doesn't. _Usually_ it doesn't. Why does that matter, Martin? C'mon, just forget about it..."

This was so unusual for Douglas. He has never once tried to avoid a question when it came to dragon culture. He reveled in it, taking great pride to sprout off history and customs. "What is this coin, Douglas?" Martin said in a slightly more demanding tone.

"Martin..."

"I am not leaving until I know."

"Look, can we talk about this later?"

"Douglas-!"

"Oh, for god's sake!" The ashy-grey dragon lifted his head to them and snapped out, "You stupid dragon, just tell him what the fucking thing is! Boy, dragon's gold is the ultimate symbol of devotion. What you hold around your neck is one-third of your dragon's soul. See? Was that so hard to explain? Seesh!"

He turned around and settled back into the water, grumbling.

Something unknown settled deep inside Martin's chest. He suddenly felt scared, overwhelmed by this sudden information. He turned back to face Douglas, who was staring embarrassingly at the ceiling. "Douglas, is that true?"

Douglas said nothing.

Martin touched the gold piece. It looked so simple, so smooth and soft, nothing about it suggesting it held a dragon's soul. "Why..." He pressed his thumb against it, peeling it away to see his print across the surface. "A third?"

"Carolyn," Douglas said gruffly. "She holds the other piece."

"I..." What did this mean? "Why didn't you tell me this?"

"I've been married enough times, Martin, to recognize what I feel."

Douglas finally looked down at him, his eyes sad. "I wished I had given a piece to Amelie', but by the time I had thought of giving one to her, she was already gone. I couldn't give what Carolyn needed, so I gave her what I could. Look over there," he said nodding his towards Ku Fei and Verity. "My offspring has already given Ku Fei a piece of Dragon's gold. She wears it as an earring."

They were too far away for Martin to see, but he took Douglas' word for it.

"You are young, Martin," Douglas continued. "Very young. While I know how I feel about you, I don't wish to pressure you into believing you should feel something for me. When and if this relationship ends, with you leaving in the next three years or staying, I wanted to give you something more valuable than gold or silver."

"A piece of your soul..." Martin whispered. "God, Douglas... this is too much for me, I can't... Can't I give this back to you?"

Douglas' mouth twisted unpleasantly. "Once it's been given, it cannot be taken back."


	8. Chapter 8

Needless to say, they didn't have sex.

The dragon kept his silence throughout the bath, only answering occasionally with noncommittal grunts. He allowed Martin to help him bathe, but he wasn't his usual playful self. There was no affectionate touching involved, no 'accidental' wiggling, no contentment in the hot water. As soon as Douglas was done, he got out.

"We have a funeral to attend today," he said. "Best not to dawdle."

Feeling miffed by Douglas' distant tone, Martin stayed in the bath purely out of spite. "I'll finish when I finish."

While Martin admitted he should've been a bit more considerate towards Douglas regarding the dragon's gold, exactly what did Douglas expect? Martin was tired of being fed second-hand information, of feeling like someone else was making his desicions for him. If the dragon wanted to avoid heartbreak, he should have asked before declaring his heart and soul to somebody who may or may not give it back.

Underneath the hot water, Martin fingered the dragon's gold, rubbing his thumb around the edges over and over.

A third of Douglas' soul. Bound forever in this small piece of soft, bendable metal. There was a metaphor somewhere in there, but Martin couldn't find it. Did Carolyn know she owned a piece? Was she honoured she received it or was her reaction like his; shocked and scared? Martin could easily lose this small piece of gold. It could be stolen or simply tossed into a pile of treasure and forgotten about.

In a few years his contractural marriage with Douglas will end. Martin's father was hinting of marrying him off to a Chinese emperor as a concubine. With all of the gun powder the King has harvested over the years, he wanted to make alliances with someone who knew how to use it to their advantage.

By now other dragons have started to trickle into the hot springs. Remembering the cautious words of the elf, Martin quickly finished his bath and climbed out. As he dried himself and dressed, the old dragon who explained the dragon's gold spoke up.

"Don't be too harsh on your dragon, boy," he said, sighing. He didn't bother to open his eyes as he continued to soak. "He was simply following his heart."

"I don't deserve this," said Martin. He grasped the gold piece, shaking his head woefully. "This isn't like giving a precious jewel as a gift, this is his part of his soul."

The old dragon huffed. " _Deserve_. Such a stupid word. At what point do you think he should have given such a gift to you? After ten years of marriage? After having off-spring? Boy, do not think he checked off a list of attributes, he did this because the moment he laid eyes on you, his soul was already yours."

Martin bit his lip. "I don't know if I can give such a commitment back."

"You're human, of course you don't. If you lived as long as we have, you would know in an instant. I gave three of my wives pieces of my soul. I've never regretted it."

"Where are they?"

The old dragon sighed, shifting in his bath. His eyes were still closed and when he talked, he spoke slower and more quietly. "Oh, they've been gone for many... many, many years now."

"And... where is the dragon's gold?"

"Who knows."

Martin gasped. "But it's your soul!"

"And I gave it to the people I cared for the most..." his voice drifted away, his words becoming more and more sleepy. "What better way... to spend... eternity...?"

The end of the conversation was signaled by his snore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Martin joined Douglas shortly after, keeping the conversation he had to himself. Now wasn't the time or place to be having such intimate dialogue, not when they had to prepare for the funeral.

He helped the dragon dress by slipping on black jade bracelets onto his horns. All around them, other dragons decorated themselves with black diamonds, darken glass and onyx. Martin was surprised because Douglas had said not to wear mourning clothes and yet black jewelry was alright? Regardless if it was inappropriate or not, the jewels were so beautiful, it didn't matter if it was black. Douglas himself looked amazing.

Martin dressed in fresh clothes the elf brought. The small creature was so eager now to help Martin, he actually shooed away other elves who tried to offer their services. He didn't leave until the iron circlet was placed upon Martin's head, squealing in pride.

Now dressed, Martin hesitated with the dragon's gold. Though it weighed nothing, it felt like a rock hanging off of his neck. Not as a burden, but the message behind it was enough to drag anybody down.

As unsure as he felt about the gold piece, he pulled it out and allowed it to dangle in full view. When he turned to face Douglas, the dragon's breath got caught in his throat.

Before he could speak, Martin quickly asked, "Is it appropriate? For a funeral?"

The tension in the dragon slowly drained away. His eyes softened, and he leaned down to gently nuzzle Martin against his cheek. "You're perfect," he murmured. Martin rubbed a hand against his scales. "No one will dare ask you to take it off or hide it."

A low hum echoed through the cave, catching the attention of everyone. Chatter and movement ceased. The hum sounded like it was coming from a large wind instrument, and the moment it ended, one of the elves spoke loudly from the other side of the cave.

"The funeral of His Highness, the Dragon King, is about to be begin. Please enter the Great Hall."

Except for the sounds of claws scrapping against the floor, everyone was in total silence as they filtered out of the current cave and into the next. Martin kept a hand on Douglas' elbow as they walked, mostly to avoid being trampled by other dragons than expressing affection.

The Great Hall was the biggest, most elaborate cave of them all. The enormity of it defied all sense of logic, of structural sanity. The Hive was not big enough to accommodate such a place and yet here it stood. Right in the middle, a gigantic chandelier made out of thousands of deer antlers hung from the ceiling. Upon every antler spike sat a lit, black candle.

Martin spotted Princess Ku Fei and Prince Hans through the crowd. She, like Martin, was dressed as if going to a party and not a funeral of a monarch. Her dress was bright green, decorated with silver. Even from this distance, Martin could see the glittering piece of her own dragon's gold, dangling from her ear. Prince Hans wore a simple dark blue tunic with a red sash across his chest. Martin saw no gold on him.

They said nothing, only acknowledging each others' presence with a simple nod of their heads.

Martin also spotted the dragon who attacked him the other night. He was satisfied to see the dragon was still sporting fat boils and limped while he walked

What Martin saw in front of the cave made him gasp out loud.

On a large, erected, flat stone laid the dead King of dragons. He was not positioned elegantly like a human king; his limbs were sticking out in different directions, his tail hanged off the edge, and he was laid on his back, his genitals in full view. For fuck's sake, even his _tongue_ stuck out.

Martin felt insulted on the King's behalf. Surely someone here could have taken a few minutes to positioned the King in a more dignified manner. It looked like someone had thrown his corpse up on that rock and decided, 'eh, good enough.'

Dragon thing, Martin reminded himself, shaking his head mournfully. It was a dragon thing.

It took twenty minutes for the room to fill with dragons. The walls, the pillars, the ceiling and even the chandelier was occupied with dragons. No one spoke during the entirety.

Up ahead, a female dragon shakily climbed onto the bed rock, standing right in front of the King. She was so old, she looked as if she was ready to die herself. She turned to face the crowd and that's when Martin noticed she was blind as well.

She spoke: "For those who don't know me, I prefer it that way. But for the last ten thousand years, I was this idiot's mate."

She gestured to the King behind her.

"And once you've had a dragon's cock in you, you know him better than anybody else."

There was a murmur of agreement through the crowd. Martin couldn't help making a face at that. It wasn't treated like a joke, the dragons took it seriously.

"Say what you will about this fool," she continued. "If you agreed with his politics or didn't, it still doesn't change the fact we had no war during his reign, no massacres of our kin, and every single one of the off-spring I bore him made it to adulthood. Who else can say the same about themselves?"

She turned to the King. She lowered her head to him, and her next words were whispered. In the absolute silence of the room, Martin heard them perfectly.

 _"I wish I weren't blind, so I could see your ugly mug one last time_."

She gently rubbed her snout across the King's neck, then stepped down off the rock.

In total silence, two fairies flew down from the ceiling and unrolled a veil of gold. They draped it across the King's body like a blanket, covering him completely.

The moment the fairies flew away, the gold suddenly caught on fire. The bright red and orange flames produced no smoke, even as the body burned quickly underneath. All the dragons in the room then bowed their heads and spoke as one.

"Born in fire, return to fire," they said in unison. " _Amen_."


	9. Chapter 9

The flames kept burning the body of the King, and it didn't stop until there was nothing more than a faint soot spot on the flat rock. Once the last trickle of flame died away, there was a small collective sigh amongst the dragons.

Then, all at once, roaring. Martin slapped his hands over his ears as many of the dragons threw their heads back and started jeering loudly, some spurting flames up into the air, uncaring if they caught other dragons in their streams of fire.

"Next king!" They started chanting. "NEXT KING, NEXT KING, NEXT KING, NEXT KING!"

Douglas lowered his head to Martin and said loudly enough to be heard, "The old king chose his heir before he died. Now we are waiting to see who it is- oh, fuck me."

"What?" Martin yelled, barely hearing himself. "What is it?"

"It's Luciella," Douglas sneered. "I can't believe the King chose _her_ , that cow-"

At first Martin didn't understand why Douglas was so angry. He watched as the crowds of dragons parted, allowing an old, purple female dragon to pass. She was shaped more like a dinosaur, with a long neck and an equally long tail. Thick, leathery skin hanged off her neck and with every step she took, it swayed from side to side. Personally, Martin didn't think she looked that younger than the King's mate.

Douglas had mentioned her when they first arrived here. The memory of it would have disappeared into Martin's subconsciousness if it wasn't for the way Douglas had described Luciella, talking of her with disdain. Then again, Douglas talked of many dragon with disdain, so this wasn't all that different.

But something was different. This wasn't Douglas' usual snide self. The scales on his body was rippling, almost shivering with tension.

The dragons roared their acceptance of Luciella, hooting and slapping their claws upon the floor. The noise was nearly deafening, and even with his hands over his ears, Martin nearly curled in on himself from the intensity of it all. The moment Luciella stepped up onto the flat rock, the crowds immediately silenced.

Martin gave a little gasp.

"My fellow dragons," Luciella spoke clear and loud. "Thank you for your acceptance and love. I promise you as your king, I will rule with passion and your best interests at heart."

There was another deafening roar, shaking Martin's bones. The moment it stopped, he laid out a hand against Douglas' leg to steady himself. He was glad to see he wasn't the only one suffering. Hans was clutching his own head, his face twisted in pain. Even Ku Fei, as experienced as she was in dragon culture, rubbed a hand over her forehead as if she had a headache.

"I know many of you are eager to give me the gifts you brought," Luciella continued once the rabble died down. "But I fear I must address something first. For there are strangers amongst us. Beings who should never set foot on our sacred birthing grounds."

She sneered. " _Humans_."

"How dare she..." Douglas hissed. "Martin, stay close."

Martin could barely hear, his ears were still ringing. "What?"

"These foul creatures have plagued our lands," Luciella said. "Killed our fellow kin for defending what is ours. They are ugly, weak creatures and yet some of us- if you can believe it - choose to wed and bed these animals!"

There was a harsh round of agreement. The dragon that stood near Martin suddenly turned his ugly, horned face in his direction and hissed out, " _Whore_."

 _"Back off,"_ Douglas snarled, baring his teeth. He pulled Martin even closer to him.

Things were going wrong so very quickly. The tension in the room had turned, and suddenly Martin found himself surrounded by threats. Yesterday most of the dragons in the room barely gave Martin a second glance as he walked past. Now that their King was showing open disdain, did they take that as permission to show their true feelings?

Not all of the dragons were agreeing with her. A few dragons did roll their eyes while others outright ignored her. However indifference did not mean they would stand up for Martin if something happened. They just wouldn't partake in it.

" _Whore_ ," said the horned dragon again.

Luciella continued. "However, I do not blame my dragons. I understand sometimes alliances need to be made. But we are eternal whereas the humans are barely a blip on the passage of time. If we band together, we stand together, and we are stronger than any other force on this planet. We don't need humans. We never have."

" _Don't_ -" Douglas whispered.

"I have made my first proclamation as King," Luciella said. "All marriages to humans are now and forever more, null and void."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Blood, slight gore and body horror.

Now that didn't make sense, Martin thought. Wasn't there a judicial system set up, a council of members to rationalize a monarch's decision before they declared things illegal? The whole point of having them was to prevent kings from making such impulse decisions and-

"NO!" Verity cried out in alarm. "YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"

Luciella raised up her paw, indicating for Verity to be quiet. "Calm yourself, dragon."

"I will not! Not five minutes on the throne and already you're passing laws without our consent and prior knowledge! We've made marriages with humans for thousands of years-!"

"Hold your tongue, dragon!"

Verity was in mid-sentence when suddenly her jaw snapped shut. It wasn't of her own free will. Martin saw how her eyes went wide in surprise, her head jaunting upwards by the force of her mouth closing. She tried to speak again but was unable to move.

Luciella looked on satisfied. "Now, as I was saying... I am not a cruel king. I understand many of you made alliances with the filthy beasts and voiding the marriage will sever those alliances. To compensate, I offer to each my newly divorced dragons one hundred pounds of gold from my personal treasury."

The whole room exploded in protest, dragons demanding why _those_ dragons got so much gold while the other, more _faithful_ dragons who never touched human flesh before got nothing.

At least that shifted the attention from Martin back onto Luciella. As her highness tried to quell the rising rabble ("You can't magic us ALL into silence!") Douglas was moving forward. He shoved his way through the crowd, pausing every few seconds to ensure Martin was close to him. He moved up next to Verity who was still struggling to open her mouth. "Stop fighting," he told his off-spring. "Her magic will wear off in time, you're only going to hurt yourself."

At his words Verity hanged her head and whined.

"Are you alright?" Martin gently asked Ku Fei.

Ku Fei was an immensely thin woman. When she was composed, her beauty was beyond perfection, her thinness giving her an elegant look. The heat in the room frizzled her hair from its perfect bun, red rose up high in her cheeks and her makeup was melting off her face. Her fists shook at her side.

"I am not," she said, wiping the frustrated tears from her cheeks. It only helped smeared her makeup more. "As if her highness believes we can be bought by mere gold. Sixteen years erased in a matter of a second. It's cruel."

Martin licked his lips. "Can something like this be overturned? Can a popular vote be held?"

This must not be the first time a dragon king declared something so outrageous. Surely their society had their own set rules and declarations concerning their politics.

Ku Fei turned to Martin, her expression startling him. He thought she would be surprised, maybe even hopeful. It was pity. She _pitied_ him.

There was so much about dragon culture Martin was unaware of, rules and etiquette he was failing at. Compare to Ku Fei, he was a know-nothing brat, but her look irritated him. Why was his suggestion treated with such arrogance?

He didn't get a chance to ask.

"BE QUIET!" Luciella bellowed out. Her voice echoed off the walls, rattling the giant chandelier from above. Several candles fell off, exploding on impact upon dragon backs.

Immediately the whole room went silent. Luciella didn't care to address the crowd. Her attention was on Ku Fei and Martin.

"You..." She started, staring wildly. "You both have dragon's gold."

They didn't mean to, but both reached up to their respective gold piece, grabbing at it in defense.

"Your majesty," Douglas said evenly, stepping forward. He purposely stepped to the side to shield Verity and their humans from Luciella's direct gaze. Martin didn't like how Douglas was presenting himself, like a shameful dog trying to appease its master. His head was lightly bowed, and when he spoke, his voice took on a more diplomatic tone. "We shall honour your law peacefully. Let us take the humans back home and-"

"Filthy dragon," Luciella sneered. "How much of your soul have you given away?"

Douglas swallowed. "That's... between me and my recipient."

"Yes, the red-headed one. Step forward, human."

There was no room to negotiate or argue. What was the point was she trying to make? Carefully Martin stepped into view, doing his best to look dignified and unthreatening at the same time. Luciella was looking for a fight and anything Martin might do could trigger her. "Your majesty," Martin said, bowing.

Luciella purposefully said nothing, letting him to stand there awkwardly with his head bent as he waited for her to acknowledge him. He was aware by bowing, the gold piece hung outwards from his chest, dangling in full view.

Finally, Luciella said, "How long have you been married, human?"

Martin straightened. His neck felt cramped. "Nearly two years, your majesty."

"Hmmm, do you enjoy having dragon cock in you?"

Humiliation crashed upon Martin as blood stained his cheeks scarlet. He didn't know if she purposely said that to upset him or if this was just another part of dragon culture he didn't understand. She must know, why else would she ask such a question to a species she believed to be inferior? Martin swallowed his pride and said, "I do enjoy time with my spouse."

"That's not what I asked," she snapped at him. "I said, do you. Enjoy. Getting _fucked_. By. A dragon's. _COCK_."

She knew what she was asking. Every dragon in the room was waiting for him to answer, staring at him in confusion or revulsion. Douglas looked torn between wanting to stand up for Martin, and knowing he needed to keep his mouth shut. "... yes, your majesty."

"How long is your marriage, human?"

"Our contractural marriage doesn't end for another three years, your majesty."

He kept adding on 'your majesty' for polite's sake, but that sounded repetitvely dull in his ears.

"Wrong answer," Luciella said. "I ended your marriage."

Martin gritted his teeth. "Yes, your majesty."

"Say it out loud."

"My marriage has ended."

"And you will go back to your home and never return."

"And... I will go back to my home and never return."

"Now... take off your dragon's gold-"

The whole room once again erupted in protest, this time in defense of Martin. Dragon's gold was sacred, older than the establishment of kings, older than humans, and the giving and receiving of gold was one of their most sacred laws. Once gold was given, the dragons reminded their king, it could not be taken back.

There were other arguments as well. Dragons shouldn't be giving their gold to humans; they would be dead in a few years anyways. They would never come to appreciate such a gift. Maybe it was time to pass a law to keep dragons from giving their souls away to such creatures whose lifespans were insignificant.

At Luciella's command, a deadly growl erupted from Douglas' mouth. He snapped forward sharply, defensively positioning himself in front of Martin. His whole body arched, his wings spreading out besides him. He rapidly grew in size. "How dare you," he sneered. "It does not matter if you are king or GOD, you cannot force another to remove their dragon's gold-"

"I am not forcing him," said Luciella. "If he were another dragon, I would agree, having him take off his dragon's gold is a sin too grand. But he is not dragon, he is human; vile and lowly and not worthy of such a gift. I am asking him to take off his gold."

"Commanding him-!"

"Human," Luciella directed her gaze back to Martin. "I physically cannot force you to take off the gold. Yes, I agree, in the end that is your choice. But your marriage has now ended and..."

She smiled steely.

"I did hear through the grapevine your dragon had given this gold to you without your knowledge or consent. I believe some part of you is merely wearing that gold out of respect, perhaps even obligation. You're not married now, you're free to unburden yourself."

Martin didn't mean to make a face, but judging from the way Luciella jerked back in response, his expression showed his true feelings. Enough was enough.

"Are you joking?" He said, laying his rhetorical question with disgust. "You insult me, you insult my dragon, my marriage, and you honestly believe you can somehow convince me to take off my gold? I am never going to take this off. And no rule of yours will ever force me!"

Luciella studied him for a second. She then turned her gaze to Douglas, who was triumphant and proud besides Martin.

She pointed a single claw at him and said, " _Down_."

As if struck by an invisible weight, Douglas' whole body slammed down upon the ground, holding him there. His wings were flattened down next to him, his legs sprawled outwards, his claws scrapping across the floor. He struggled to get up, to move his legs back under his body.

Luciella then pointed to Verity. " _Down_."

Verity flattened to the stone ground as well, harder than Douglas, smacking her head sharply. Ku Fei screamed.

"Stop this!" Martin yelled at the king. "Why are you doing this?"

"Simple," Luciella said, turning her gaze to Martin. "I'm denying you your allies."

Her claw struck out, slashing him across the chest. Martin gasped, his blood splattering his face. The lion crest on his tunic was ripped away, and most importantly, the chain the dragon's gold hanged on _snapped_.

Martin fell to the floor. He watched in muted horror as his gold piece clattered fifteen feet away from him. Dragons scurried away from it, desperate not to touch it accidentally. Martin's right arm was a mess of gore, taking the full blunt of Luciella's swipe. His left arm was cut as well, not as badly, and he reached out to drag himself across the floor to get his gold piece.

His blood poured out from beneath him like a river.

He only managed to drag himself a few pathetic feet when Luciella scooped him off the ground. She raised him high into the air, a dripping, blood-soaked trophy in her claw, and announced, "These beings do not deserve your gold! They do not deserve your souls!"

Luciella opened her mouth wide.

From this angle in the air, Martin could not see Douglas. The only view he had was staring straight down into Luciella's throat. The eternal flame, the constant fire that burned hotly within every dragon, bloomed inside of her. She was not planning to eat him, Martin realized. She was planning to set him ablaze.

Martin didn't think. If he did, he was sure he'd hesitate.

He raised his bleeding left arm, grasped the iron crown the little elf gave him and tossed it down Luciella's throat.

He knew the crown was not going to get caught in her throat. It was like believing a pebble could block the water in a well. He didn't expect it to get caught. He expected it to _burn_.

He's seen first hand what dragon fire could do to various metals, and iron melted around 1500 degrees. No matter how indestructible dragons were, not even they could swallow five pounds of hot, bubbling, liquid metal.

Luciella's grip loosened and Martin fell through. Both of his legs broke the moment he struck the ground. Only throwing out his bruised, bloody arm prevented him from cracking his skull against the stone. He lifted his head, watching her highness stumble backwards, clawing at her own neck, choking and gasping as smoke fumed heavily out of her mouth. Martin blinked once, and suddenly the bottom of Luciella's throat exploded outwards, spraying hot metal five feet in front of her. She trembled, then slumped forward onto the cooling pools of iron.

None of the dragons had moved to help her.


	11. Chapter 11

His world was nothing but colours, flashes of orientation before pain and short of breath stole it all away. Someone was calling his name, he managed to catch several sentences but was unable to remember what was being said or to whom.

"... nobody fucking touch him..."

"...he's bleeding out, those slashes are deep..."

"-New king! New king! New king! New-"

"... he's convulsing..."

"... go now, bring what you can and..."

"... Hans, hold him..."

"... Martin, don't move..."

"... hear me...?"

"... Martin..."

When he woke, it felt like his chest was stuffed with cotton. He was afraid if he looked down, he would see his torso cut open, his organs gone, replaced with fluff. His tongue was heavy in his mouth and he gagged, twisting his head side to side to dislodge it.

A familiar small voice asked him if he would like some water. Martin nodded, then groaned when the sharp movement made his head swim. A moment later, a cup was guided to his lips, allowing him to drink very small sips. "Easy now... not too much."

He wanted to drink more but he didn't have the energy to continue. When the water started dribbling over his lips and down his chin, the cup was taken away. "Go back to sleep, your highness. You should feel better when you wake again."

He certainly hope so. Martin felt his consciousness drifting away, and then nothingness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When he woke again, he was stiff and cranky and over heated, but much more alert than before. He moved, groaning lightly as he pushed himself up. He didn't feel refreshed, he felt like he'd been sleeping too long and his body was now suffering from bed sores.

Speaking of which, he wasn't lying on a traditional bed. Someone had gathered bear furs and piled them together. He noted these skins had not been properly tended to yet. It was clean enough to rid of the parasites, not enough to rid the smell and rough coarse itch of the fur.

Someone had dressed him in pyjamas, but didn't bothered buttoning the front of his top. His chest was exposed, giving him a good view of the scars. Three white slash marks reached from his collar bone, across his chest, down to his ribs. His right arm bore the same white scars and when he touched them, they were still tender. Recently healed with dragon magic, he guessed, but it still wasn't enough to erase the aftermath.

He pushed back the bear fur blanket to inspect his legs. He remembered snapping them upon impact. Both of his legs were a sea of bruises, nearly blackened with them, but they were whole. He moved them, testing them gingerly and winced. It would still be many days before he would be able to walk.

"Good afternoon, your highness."

Martin's head snapped up and he jumped. The old ancient dragon Martin had spoken to in the baths was sitting in front of him. Douglas was nowhere to be seen.

"Let me speak," the dragon said. "Your ex-husband and his off-spring are fine. They're sitting outside, waiting. You are not in any sort of trouble, so speak freely, if you wish."

Martin swallowed. "Who... are you?"

The old dragon cocked his giant, grey head. "I'm Leonard, the new dragon king."

"The new...? I... I didn't think Luciella would pick a dragon who had human wives before as her heir."

"She didn't. Considering she died within the first fifteen minutes of her reign, she didn't have time. That's a new record, I believe. Because I was the oldest after her, I got the crown." He shrugged. "Lucky me."

Good god, Martin hadn't bothered to consider the ramifications of his actions. The only thing he thought of in that moment was to protect himself, to protect Douglas, and in panic, he killed a monarch. It wasn't a swift, painless death either. Luciella had suffered for nearly a full minute as the hot iron burned her throat and liquified her insides before it exploded outwards from pure pressure. "Am... I to be executed?"

Leonard blinked wildly. "For what?"

"For murdering the last king."

"Pshhh, no," the dragon snorted. "Had you killed her without prompt, yes, you would be dead right now, but _she_ attacked _you_. What you did was in self-defense and nobody here could fault you for that."

"It can't be that simple."

"Hmmm... I always forget, for such short lives, humans complicate so many things. We are dragon, young one. Our rules are simple, our tastes are simple, our laws are simple. If you don't believe that, then take my word: I, as king, say you are without guilt in the death of the former king."

Martin didn't entirely believe him. As Douglas loved pointing out, dragons were magical creatures. Killing something that's been around for twenty thousand years was going to have bigger consequences beyond these walls. It was just a matter of time before it came crashing down upon Martin's head.

A thought suddenly occurred to him. "You said you're the new king. Am I still divorced?"

Leonard looked at him sadly. "Unfortunately, yes."

"But... can't you overrule-"

"Once a king has given a new law, it cannot be overturned, not even by a new king. I am sorry, young prince, your marriage to your dragon is forever voided."

"But.." Now that didn't make a ounce of fucking sense. "So if a king announced every first born child must be killed-"

"Then we would be bound by law to kill the first born. Granted though, no dragon king has gone drunk with power to a point of doing _that_."

"But voiding legal marriages would be considered, what? A slight flush?"

Martin winced at the sound of his own tone. He just escaped one death sentence from the previous king, he didn't need to be insulting the new one.

Leonard studied him for a moment, considering the words. If he was insulted, he didn't care enough to fight it. "The best I can do," he said. "Is soften the blow. Dragons will be allowed to... hmmm, make contracts with humans. Adopt humans, perhaps, as their legal heirs. But marriage? Gone forever."

 _This_ was why Ku Fei had looked upon Martin with pity. She already knew the law could not be overturned. She knew when Martin eventually learned the truth, it would affect him just as much as it affected her.

Suddenly the ache in Martin's body grew and grew. He didn't want to be here anymore. He wanted to go _home_. He wanted to be with Douglas, listen to his smooth voice and allow it be the last thing Martin heard before he went to sleep. Five years wasn't that long of a marriage, but five years was better than two. Martin curled in on himself, biting his lip. It was so undignified to cry in front of a king.

"I am sorry, little one," Leonard said gently. "I know if I lost my wife to such deceit, it would hurt me just as badly."

Martin never thought his marriage would end like this. Everything happened so quickly, it barely registered in his brain what really happened. One minute he was still reeling from the shock of having a piece of a dragon's soul hanging off his neck, and in the next, he was killing a king because she decided to challenge him.

He touched his chest. The gold was not there.

"My dragon's gold," he gasped, looking up. "Douglas. May I see him?"

"Of course you may," Leonard said. He turned to move away. "I need to get back to my coronation party anyhow."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much kudos to peacerosegladheon for giving me the idea of what may happen when/if the marriage ends!


	12. Chapter 12

Douglas presented him the remains of the dragon's gold. When Luciella's throat exploded outwards, spraying hot iron across the floor, some of the liquid metal had also fallen upon the coin piece. The gold melted with the iron, mixing the two together. When it cooled, it looked like a flattened, blob of a mess.

Martin slowly turned the piece over and over in his hand, inspecting it quietly. It no longer shined brightly, no matter how much Martin tried to catch the light. "Is... the magic inside still residing? Or is it gone?"

The dragon shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

"This is your soul we're talking about here!"

"And I gave it to you. What happens after doesn't matter to me."

Mother fucking dragons. If Martin wasn't feeling so much like shit right now, he probably would have argued that. "What happened after I fell asleep?"

"You mean what happened after you _fainted_ from _trauma_ and _blood loss?_ I am happy to say you were never in danger of dying, but the injuries you've endured may haunt you for the rest of your life. We won't know until your legs fully heal to see if you'll be stuck with a limp. There might be significant nerve damage to your arm and-"

"Stop. I don't... tell me about the injuries later. What about us? Our... marriage."

"That's gone, Martin."

"I know, but in name only. The King said he could soften the sudden change. Maybe not call it marriage but perhaps-"

"That's not how it works," Douglas said. "If I were human, and you were perhaps, a lord, then yes, we could get around that law, but I am not human. I am dragon and you are the crown prince of your kingdom. I am not bound by marriage law, so I am not bound to treat you like a spouse. If someone attacks you, I have no right to protect you. If I fight or kill in your name, I risk war for unlawful aggression. As much as I love you, Martin, it doesn't change the fact our marriage is over."

Martin made a disgusted noise. "You dragons proud yourselves of your simplicity, and yet this is the most complicated thing I have ever heard in my life."

He sounded calmer than he actually felt. He wanted to scream and rant and throw things against the wall, but it wouldn't do any good. His whole body itched and ached. He didn't want to think, at the age of twenty-one, he was going have to depend on the use of a cane. Self-pity was something he wanted to do in private. "So what happens now?"

Douglas sighed. "Well... I already sent word to your father. I expect his reply soon."

"How long was I out?"

"Nearly eight days."

"Eight?" He rubbed at his tired eyes. "No wonder I'm so hungry."

Douglas smiled. "Yes, we managed to only get a few bowls of broth in you. I'll summon someone to bring you a wheelchair. You can have some of the food from the coronation party."

"Coronation party? I thought they elected the king immediately after Luciella. Why are they still celebrating?"

"Well, everyone agreed because we had two kings, we should have two parties. It's only logical."

Amazing. Not even the sudden violent death of a monarch could stop the will to have fun. "There's one thing I want to ask," Martin said. "You said you were going to introduce me to your daughters and sons. So far, I've only met Verity. Where are the others?"

Douglas' eyes twinkled. "Do you want to see them?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"You will need to be quiet..." Douglas whispered softly to him. "Helena is still resting."

Bosco, the little elf who gave Martin the iron crown, slowed his steps, reducing the sound of the wheelchair squeaking. Apparently while Martin was unconscious, Bosco took upon himself to be the only elf to serve Martin, shooing away anybody else who dared interfered.

Douglas had taken them so far away from the coronation party, the music and dancing and talking were all nothing but a soft hum in the background. It reminded Martin of times in his youth when he snuck out of his father's parties to avoid all the boring political talk.

"Here," Douglas said, turning the corner. "Here are my children."

Small puff balls of light drifted across the room like dandelion seeds, illuminating the room gently. Sitting against the far wall was Helena, laying on a pile of hay. Hearing the quiet squeak of the wheelchair, she lifted her head. "Douglas?"

"I've brought Martin," he explained, coming closer. A small puff ball of light touched his shoulder and it scattered like a miniature, silent firework. The smaller streaks of light drifted away to join the others. "He wanted to see our kin."

"Hello," Martin said awkwardly. "Forgive me, I didn't know you had given birth. I would have brought a gift."

"It's been a strange week," Helena said. "Two kings, the eradication of a fifty thousand year old law and now I'm a mother again. You can bring a gift later. Come closer, then."

Martin had always known Douglas had a mate somewhere, a mother who had birthed Verity. Having a mate and having a spouse were two different things, something that took Martin a long time to understand and accept.

Bosco the elf pushed the wheelchair closer. He peeked out his head from behind, also wanting to see. Helena moved lightly, uncurling her body to reveal what she had been protecting underneath.

In all, there were seven dragons. Seven small, baby dragons. They moved around the pile of hay restlessly, squeaking gently, seeking out Helena's warmth. Their eyes had not opened yet, and their scales nor horns had grown. They looked more like giant geckos than dragons.

"Oh," Martin breathed as a grin spread across his face. "Oh, they're so cute."

"Had the king not died, we would've gone to Helena's place for the birth," said Douglas.

Helena said to Martin, "Name them."

"Are you sure?"

"It'll give me less work. Just don't give them stupid names. If you give them stupid names, I'll eat you."

She said it without any real threat. Regardless, Martin bit his lip and thought hard for a few seconds.

He pointed to the closest baby, a purple-blue dragon with a red spot on its head. "Avalon," he declared. He pointed to another, going down the line. "Yelina, Roman, Kitana, Azure, Zelda, and... Noel."

Helena stared at him. She looked to Douglas. "He chose stupid names. I'm eating him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the names of the baby dragons are taken from real people I know.


	13. Chapter 13

"A piece of a dragon's soul..." Hans said thoughtfully. "How does that feel? _Can_ you feel something?"

Martin reached up and gently touched the melted gold piece hanging around his neck. "It has more emotional weight than physical. I feel like if I lose it, I am putting Douglas in grave danger. But he doesn't care if I lose it. What matters to him is the fact he gave it to me."

Hans huffed. " _Dragons_."

"Dragons," Martin agreed. "You don't mind Suki never gave you a piece?"

"No. Suki has been a good wife to me, but we make better friends. Besides, I want children. I had planned to go home and marry a human woman once our contractual marriage ended. That was suppose to happen a year from now, but..." He shrugged, trailing off.

Martin glanced over to Ku Fei and Verity. They were by themselves in the far corner of the room, holding each other tenderly. He felt sorry for them. It was obvious their marriage, though it began as one of mutual benefit, it turned into something more. Ku Fei was still a princess, and now as an umarried monarch, she was once again under the rule of her mother, the queen.

Like Martin. He was instructed to come home back to Fitton as soon as possible. His father already had plans for him.

"Will you go home after this?" Hans asked.

"No," Martin said. "I'm going to take my time with my recovery, and then... then I'll decide what to do next."

"That's not going to be long. Dragon magic will have you fully healed within two weeks."

"I know," said Martin. In two weeks he'll have to say goodbye to Douglas forever. "I know."

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was going to take less than two weeks. Day by day Martin could see and feel how his body slowly recovered. The bruises disappeared rapidly, the pain dulled, and he was able to move from the wheelchair without help. He was however, not left without evidence of the attack. Across his arm and chest were three large scars, digging into his body. Luciela had not only cut him open, she took large chunks of skin, muscle, and a two rib bones with her. Martin's torso looked like a poorly drawn road map.

Douglas was also right about Martin's arm. He had full movement, but his entire left hand was without feeling. After a few experiments, he learned his hand had the barest response to pressure. He was going have to be careful as his skin could not register pain or temperature anymore.

Martin was glad to say he did not need a cane to walk, but he did have a limp. It felt like when his leg healed, it shrank half an inch. He also could not run as fast, and lifting his knee higher than his hip was a challenge. In time his leg could heal fully. He was young, it was possible.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Martin watched in silence as servants and Bosco, the little elf, continued to pack the rest of Martin's things into a caravan. In the beginning when Martin came to live with the dragon, he brought very little with him. Besides himself and his dowry, the few possessions Martin moved to his new home were his clothes and books. After nearly a year of marriage, Martin was surprised by how many things he's accumulated. It made his heart twist painfully. No matter his stance on the relationship, it still didn't change the fact Martin made a home here. His horse was busy digging its heels into the earth, kicking up dirt in its boredom. The horse was eager to go on its way and the longer Martin stalled, the more it shifted in irritation.

"Are they almost done?" Douglas asked from behind.

"Yes."

"What will you do when you get home?"

Martin knew. His father already told him the news in his last letter. "I am to be married," he said. "My new fiance' is waiting for me when I come back home."

"Your father moves very quickly."

"Yes, I know."

Martin turned towards him. Douglas was standing right at the edge of the cave, not a single digit, claw or hair sitting past the invisible border. "What will you do once I'm gone?" Martin asked.

"I'm going to spend some time with my new off-spring," Douglas said. "Their wings will start growing soon."

"That sounds amazing. I wish I could see them again."

"You could, you know. There's no law stating you can't visit."

"If I have time..." If my new spouse will allow it, Martin didn't say. "I will."

"Are you... going to keep that?"

He nodded towards Martin's chest. Dangling in full view was the ruined dragon's gold. Martin grasped it, gently rubbing his thumb over the metal. "You gave it to me, so its mine to keep. Why would I get rid of it?"

Douglas shifted, almost trembling at Martin's words. The way the dragons treated their precious soul pieces baffled Martin. They didn't care what happened to them once they gave them away, but were willing to defy their own monarch in defense of them, shuddering in pleasure when the recepient accepted them.

"I will miss you," Douglas said.

Martin knew he will. Even a thousand years from now, Douglas will still miss him. "I will miss you too."

"Goodbye, Martin."

"Goodbye, Douglas."

And that was it. With a final nod, Martin turned and got on his horse. He didn't need to give his horse a small kick; the moment it felt Martin's weight, it jerked forward, eager to begin. From behind, Bosco followed, driving the small caravan containing Martin's belongings. The journey back home would take a few hours. Martin's father had asked if he needed extra men to act as security and Martin declined. He didn't need them.

From high above a large shadow followed them. Without looking Martin knew this shadow was going to look over his journey, ensuring his safe return.


End file.
